


Lion of Love

by srtlv



Category: Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga (2020)
Genre: During Movie, Gay Alexander Lemtov, M/M, Pre-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srtlv/pseuds/srtlv
Summary: Kevin Swain was planning a relaxing Eurovision week in Edinburgh, until he hears who is Russia’s contestant this year…Edit: I've added a fourth chapter, even though the story was originally only 3. Just had an idea and couldn't help it.
Relationships: Alexander Lemtov/Kevin Swain
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was wondering what was going on between Lemtov and Kevin Swain, and what they were whispering at the party, and that is how this fic was born.  
> Please don’t worry that it first says he isn’t working in Eurovision this year, it will all become clear :)  
> This is my first fic ever. Kevin and Alexander were just so intriguing that I couldn't help writing it!

Kevin Swain sat in the business class of a transatlantic flight headed to London. He was returning to the UK from a series of projects that had taken him around the US for the past year. With the upcoming Eurovision Song Contest in Edinburgh, he felt it was the perfect time to return to Europe, at least temporarily. He was not involved with any of the Eurovision shows this year, having been kept too busy by the string of successful projects in the US to be available early enough for the planning and execution that a large scale Eurovision number usually necessitated. Nevertheless, especially with his background, Eurovision was always a chance to network with acquaintances both old and new, and he would probably also gain at least a couple of job offers that he could then pick and choose from. On top of that, on a personal level he always enjoyed the international, liberal atmosphere at the competition. He had wondered whether he would miss all the stress and excitement happening backstage, but it would probably do him good to just focus on networking and having fun for a week or two. It might be a welcome change after his extremely busy schedule over the past months. 

Kevin sipped the last of his GT and leaned back in the seat. He was happy that he had reached the kind of success in his career where he was able to fly business rather than coach. He shut his eyes and tried to get a bit of sleep in before landing, but it evaded him. He sighed and picked up the copy of the inflight magazine in front of him, flipping through it idly. The contents were the usual, starting with a map of the world with a list of big events globally that the airline was happy to fly you to. Edinburgh was of course listed with Eurovision. Then, with a jolt, he saw the picture that accompanied the blurb about the song contest: the all-too-familiar face of Alexander Lemtov flirting with him through the camera, in the middle of his song in Budapest two years back. Kevin would have recognized the setting even without Alexander: it was all his doing, after all. Underneath the picture was the caption: “Russia’s heartthrob Alexander Lemtov, who finished 4th in Budapest two years ago, is back for this year’s Eurovision Song Contest in Edinburgh.”

Kevin stared at the page. Alexander was Russia’s entry for this year’s Eurovision? How had he missed this? Immediately he knew how; he had simply been so busy finishing up his latest project that he had not even had time to follow the industry news back home. He had not kept in touch with Alexander either, on the contrary: he had not tried to think about him too much, preferring to focus on his career outside the Eurovision for the past year. But now, in a few weeks’ time, he would be in Edinburgh, and Alexander would be there as well. For the first time Kevin Swain started to slightly regret the fact that he had kept himself purposefully too busy, and had declined all offers from Eurovision contestants this year.

*

Kevin had met Alexander for the first time more than two years ago, when he was hired by the Russian team to direct their Eurovision number in Budapest. Apparently Russia had high hopes for their entry that year, and having heard the song, a powerful but slightly campy pop-opera number, Kevin tended to agree. He was flown out to Moscow to meet the team and start the process. He did not know what he had expected the star of the show to be like, but it certainly was not this: Alexander Lemtov was an unbelievably handsome and ridiculously wealthy pop icon with an incredible voice, who performed with passion and relentless energy. His personal style was as over the top as he was: expensive fabrics, gold embroidery, flashy jewellery. He looked like a cross between young George Michael and a Disney prince, and on stage he radiated sexual energy and openly flirted with his audience with his steel-blue bedroom eyes. He was certainly aware of his good looks, and had the unending confidence of someone who had always had the money to make anything possible. Yet, despite all of this, he was not a diva: he was warm and friendly, and always very professional when it came to his music. 

Kevin felt like he had hit the jackpot. He had a great song and a great performer, with a charisma that could make the Eurovision gay male audience swoon, and probably most of the straight female audience as well. He was not sure if Alexander himself was gay, or just over the top wealthy and Russian, but he could certainly use the vibe for their benefit. So he built a show that was as over-the-top as the song and Alexander, and which clearly flirted with homoeroticism, but in a subtle enough way for the conservative Russians to not fully realize what was being done. Alexander loved it. His only demand was that at some point of the choreography his shirt needed to go: “I look fantastic on stage without a shirt!” he announced. Kevin could only agree and was happy to work that in: with the Eurovision audience it could certainly only be a plus.

After some pre-work done in Moscow, it was finally time to fly to Budapest. Kevin flew in from London, Alexander from Moscow on a private plane. The Russian delegation had set Kevin up at the Kempinski, a luxury hotel housed in a stylish modern building in the centre of the town. Upon hearing this on the first day, Alexander was horrified. “Why you stay in Kempinski? In Budapest you must stay in a palace!”. Of course it turned out that he had his own private palace nearby. With a private chef. “No, you come have dinner with me! Much better than any restaurant in Budapest. You can stay over. Better than Kempinski!”. When Kevin hesitated, he added: “Don’t worry, I gentleman, I have 20 rooms!” and winked at him. Kevin had been surprised. Was Alexander Lemtov….flirting with him? Their interactions in Moscow had been friendly, but strictly professional. He was suddenly not sure if he was actually being invited on a date but decided to agree. He would be interested to see, where this would be headed to. 

Alexander’s palace was indeed exactly that, a real-life palace, probably from the times of the Austro-Hungarian empire. It was opulent, filled with gold decorations, heavy curtains and antique furniture. The dinner prepared by the private chef was, of course, delicious. “I prefer my own chef to restaurants”, Alexander commented. “Is better food, better service and more…”. Alexander lowered his voice: “…private.”. He gave Kevin a look that could only be described as smouldering.

Now Kevin was quite sure that this must be, after all, a date. He did not quite know how this had happened: here he was sitting in the middle of this ridiculously opulent luxury, eating a dinner prepared by a private chef, and being flirted at by this unbelievably sexy Russian pop star. Or was there still a possibility that Alexander did not realize what he was doing? Kevin had never seen any indication of a boyfriend, a partner or even a casual fling. Was this just how Alexander treated everyone? Or was this some sort of a game? Some sort of a quirk of the super wealthy? He told himself to stop over-analysing and to just go with the flow. The wine that had accompanied the dinner warmed him from the inside, and Alexander’s easy and friendly manner made discussion effortless. They discussed other Eurovision contestants and their shows, and then Budapest, how often Alexander visited the city and what he liked to do while there. Kevin rested his hand on the table, and suddenly Alexander put his hand on top of his. Kevin felt the touch as a flutter at the pit of his stomach.  


“And you, Kevi-in“, Alexander looked at him with that intensive gaze of his. “If you have time between your work, what do you plan to do in Budapest?”.  
Kevin looked at their hands on the table. He was feeling warm and confident, and decided to take a leap of faith. He raised his eyes to meet Alexander’s: “You?”.  
Alexander smiled. He lowered his smooth voice to a velvety purr. “That can be arranged.” He stood up from the table. “Come!”  
And that first night in Budapest, Kevin Swain learned that while Alexander Lemtov was over the top wealthy and Russian, he also was, without a doubt, gay.

*

They kept everything very professional during the day. In public, Alexander would never call him by his first name, he was always referred to and addressed as “Kevin Swain”. But of those 20 bedrooms in Alexander’s palace, the only one Kevin became familiar with was Alexander’s. Kevin felt like he was living in a dream. Even though he knew he was quite sought-after in certain circles, he also knew he was punching above his weight here.  
“Do you do this often?”, he could not help asking Alexander one morning as they were getting ready to leave.  
“What, Kevi-in, this not often enough for you?”, Alexander looked at him and smirked.  
“No, I mean, with other people…men, when you are on tour?”  
Alexander turned away and was silent for a moment.  
“No, in Russia is not possible. I cannot. Impossible for my career. But Kevin…” Alexander turned to smile at him. “I find you a very interesting person. You are passionate about your work, like I am. I like that. Maybe if I win, I can do a tour in Europe….Maybe then is different.”

But Alexander didn’t win. It was widely believed that certain political events during the past year robbed Russia, and him, of some of the votes. The winner was Sweden, with a romantic power ballad and a show to match. Kevin knew instantly that his work with the Russian delegation was over. For many other countries, coming up 4th would have been a huge success. For Russia, anything less than winning would be considered losing. Alexander did not seem to mind, at least publicly. “I will win next time!”, he told the press with his characteristic confidence. Then, in a press conference, he announced that he would be touring Russia for the next year. Kevin, sitting in the audience, knew that this was it, this was the end of his Eurovision fairy tale. When Alexander publicly thanked his team, and gave special thanks to his “amazing creative director, Kevin Swain”, he smiled and nodded in return, and left Budapest without seeing Alexander again. 

Professionally, the Eurovision in Budapest had been a success for Kevin. The Russian show was considered outstanding and Kevin received several job offers for the following year. He chose the most interesting sounding one: Australia, which as a country was weirdly obsessed with Eurovision, and had been invited to participate for the first time a couple of years earlier, had decided that they wanted to step on the centre stage, and needed a “visionary” to direct their act. Kevin spent most of the year working with the Australians. The end result was that in Stockholm, Australia took Eurovision by storm and won for the first time. It was widely believed that the artfully directed stage show had a big part to play in their success. Despite this professional triumph Kevin felt that the Eurovision week in Stockholm was something of a let-down. He was in a liberal country, surrounded by hot local vikings, not to mention all the dancers, make-up artists, and Eurovision fans, yet he just could not forget Budapest. He certainly tried, but no one just seemed to measure up. Kevin was disappointed in himself: here he was, on the top of his career, and pining for a short fling he had a year ago? When he received an offer from the US, he jumped at the chance, and made sure to keep himself busy so as to not think about the following year’s Eurovision, to be held in Edinburgh as a placeholder for Australia. 

*

When the plane landed in Heathrow, Kevin had still not been able to sleep. He felt groggy, and his signature black outfit felt worn and wrinkled. He powered up his phone while waiting for his luggage to arrive. There was a voicemail from a foreign number. +354? He didn’t recognize the country code. There was still no sign of his luggage, so he listened to the message, which turned out to be a desperate plea from Iceland. There had been some sort of a terrible accident, and as a result, their entry to this year’s Eurovision was “not good”. They needed all the help they could get to “not seem like total idiots”, and they had heard Kevin Swain might be available. They knew it was on a very tight schedule, but they would pay well, and would it be in any way possible for Kevin to consider helping them…  
Kevin sighed. Here we go again, he thought. Then he dialled back. “Yes, I’m indeed available. Of course, I am happy to help you.”


	2. Chapter 2

It turned out that the Icelandic entry was not only “not good”, it was horrible. Not the song as such, it was passable, and there had been many worse entries in Eurovision in the past. But the duo performing it, Fire Saga, was unbelievably unprofessional. They came from some small village in Iceland, and this was apparent in their lack of professionalism right away. It seemed they had never before performed on a stage bigger than a local country pub and did not have even a basic understanding of how things usually worked. Kevin sighed and tried to think of it as a challenge. They were not expected to get past the semi-finals, so all he had to do was make sure they did not seem totally out of place on stage. The problem was that the male member of the duo, Lars, seemed to have very high hopes for their success, and kept planning more and more outrageous details for the show and their wardrobe, mostly without informing either his partner Sigrit or Kevin about them. It was a complete mess, but at least Kevin was once again backstage at Eurovision, and it was only a question of time when he would see Alexander again. 

It happened on the day of the first tech rehearsal. Russia was set to rehearse just before Iceland, so Kevin made sure to find a good spot backstage, from where he could see what Alexander’s show (and Alexander himself) looked like this year. He was not disappointed. The number started with a long, drawn-out note that showcased Alexander’s talent as a singer. Then the dancing started, and Kevin could not believe his eyes. Two years prior, he had certainly toyed with homoeroticism in Alexander’s show, but this one was so over the top gay, Kevin couldn’t help but wonder how the conservative Russians had ever allowed this. There were shirtless male dancers, suggestive dance moves, whips, and lyrics that left little for the imagination. Alexander, of course, was his passionate self on stage, strolling around it in boots, tight pants and a heavily embroidered jacket but no shirt, engaging with the dancers, flirting with the audience and cameras, showcasing his velvety voice, singing about being a lion lover on the hunt. Kevin did not know who the director was, but they had chosen to only include a few pyrotechnics and some background effects, otherwise letting Alexander and the dancers take the stage. The end result was incredible, and by the end of it, Kevin was definitely ready to be the gazelle that the song referred to. Lion of love, indeed! He tore himself away with some difficulty, took a deep breath, and went to focus on his Icelanders. 

As everything with Fire Saga, the rehearsal was a mess. Sigrit seemed to have no idea what was going on, to the annoyance of their choreographer. Lars kept slavishly repeating Kevin’s name to Sigrit (“THE Kevin Swain!”), who just seemed lost. Some of the props were not ready yet. All of it was terrible. They would all really have to step up their game to not make a fool of themselves in the semi-finals. Happily, Kevin’s day took a turn for the better later, when one of his old Eurovision acquaintances told him that “that Russian, Alexander Lemtov” was throwing a party in his house (of course he has a house in Edinburgh, thought Kevin) and “everyone” was going to be there. This was an opportunity Kevin was not going to miss. Perhaps there still was a possibility of making Edinburgh the second Budapest?

The house was a palace, the party was lavish and opulent, and “everyone” was indeed there, including several contestants and winners from previous years. There was champagne, there was caviar, and good music. And then, finally, Kevin spotted Alexander walking into the room, for some reason with Lars and Sigrit on tow.   
“Kevii-in!” Alexander sounded both surprised and delighted to meet him.  
Old habits died hard. “Kevin Swain”, Kevin corrected at once, and then quipped “I think you know my full name!”, to hide the tension behind those words, as he leaned forward to greet Alexander with a kiss on the cheek. There was something slightly different about the way Alexanders’ felt next to his. “You shaved your cheek hair!”, he exclaimed.  
“Oh yes, so smooth!”, Alexander grinned.  
“Oh, I miss it!”. He had already had a few glasses of champagne, and felt a warm buzz, the evening full of possibilities and Alexander next to him. Who cared about the Icelanders? He leaned over and whispered in Lemtov’s ear: “I wonder if it still feels as good against my neck as in Budapest?”.  
“Oh, you naughty boy!”, Alexander chuckled, looking even more delighted than before.  
“Oh, I know, I shouldn’t have said that!”. The Icelanders looked confused. Kevin tried to find anything to change the subject to and spotted Sigrit’s dress, which seemed to be made of some sort of huge sequins. “You look like a flashy disco ball!”, he blurted.  
Alexander was still chuckling. As he led away the Icelanders, he was definitely giving Kevin meaningful looks. It looked like this was going to be a good night for Kevin Swain.

The night turned out to be a disappointment. Despite the shared moment, Kevin did not see Alexander again at the party. He seemed to have disappeared. This was particularly disappointing, given that early on in the night Kevin had declined the advances of a very hot dancer, thinking he might have a private moment with Alexander afterwards. This, obviously, did not happen. He only learned what Alexander had been up to the next day, when the rehearsals with Lars and Sigrit were even more of a disaster than before. Sigrit was late, and when she finally stomped on stage, she was furiously tearing at the costume Lars had designed for her. A shouting match ensued: apparently Sigrit had spent the night with Alexander. This surprised but did not worry Kevin; after all, he knew Lemtov was not into women. Lars clearly had not gotten the memo, though. Sigrit then blamed Lars for sleeping with Mita, the Greek contestant, after which Lars announced he would be sleeping with anyone and everyone, including Kevin himself. “Lovely!”, Kevin commented sardonically. If he couldn’t get into Alexander’s bed, there was apparently always the option of a middle-aged Icelandic lunatic. 

The week progressed in a similarly disastrous fashion. By the time the semi-final rolled in, they had not had the chance for much practice with the huge hamster wheel that Lars was going to be on. Lars had also made some last-minute changes to the wardrobe again. At this point Kevin was exasperated, but just wanted to be done with all of it already. He had not had the chance to meet Alexander again, either. Luckily this would in all likelihood be their last night on stage, and Kevin could then focus on other things for the rest of the week.

The semi-final turned into a catastrophe the likes of which had not been seen on Eurovision before. The beginning looked good, and Kevin already congratulated himself on managing to make Fire Saga look Eurovision-worthy. Then Sigrit’s scarf got tangled up on the hamster wheel, and all Kevin could do was to watch from behind the scenes in despair as the whole set became undone. Somehow the duo managed to continue singing even after the disaster, and did receive a thunderous applause after they had already left the stage, but Kevin was starting to fear that this gig with the Icelanders was going to seriously hurt his career. Then, to top it all off, watching from the monitors backstage, who did he see strolling into the green room and sit next to Sigrit, but Alexander! The green room was strictly for that night’s performers only. Kevin was confused. How did he pull that off? And was he a Fire Saga fan now? What was up with Alexander and Sigrit? Was this some sort of a plot to appear straight for the Russian audiences (since, he felt, no one else could possibly buy that)? Lars was nowhere to be seen. It was all crazy and disastrous and suddenly Kevin wished the whole week was over already. He would fly back to the US, where they hopefully would not have heard of the total disaster that his latest project had turned into. 

And then the votes started coming in, for Iceland! There were a bunch from the Eastern bloc countries, and Kevin wondered whether Fire Saga’s new biggest fan had anything to do with that. He knew Alexander had a good heart, and was certainly able to pull a stunt like that to help a friend. But there were also some from other countries, like Switzerland. Kevin could not believe what was happening. When the popular vote was in, it was clear: Iceland was in the finals! Kevin did not know whether to laugh or cry. On screen, he could see Sigrit bawling into Lemtov’s shoulder. Pretty sure that is going to be all over the Russian press tomorrow, he thought. Well played, Alexander!


	3. Chapter 3

On the day of the Eurovision finale Fire Saga was still an utter mess. Lars was nowhere to be found, and it seemed Sigrit would need to perform alone. Kevin didn’t even care anymore, he just wanted to be out of the country and all the Eurovision madness as soon as possible. What on earth had he been thinking, accepting this project? Just to see Alexander again? He had clearly been out of his mind. He did allow himself a short moment of dreaming when Alexander’s show was on, watching the fantastic performance from behind the scenes. That voice, that sexual energy, the suggestive dance moves! For a moment he felt like Alexander had spotted him and was throwing flirtatious glances directly his way. Then he decided it was enough, he needed to stop acting like a love-sick teenager. Why was he still thinking about something that had happened two whole years ago? He pulled himself together, and went to prepare for Iceland’s show. He would make the best of it with what he had. 

Sigrit entered the stage, and started the song, alone. Kevin was not sure how this was supposed to work, as it was a song usually performed by a duo. Then, out of nowhere, Lars ran to the stage. What on earth was he wearing? Some kind of a fisherman’s outfit? To Kevin’s horror, he stopped the show. After a while, they started again – but it was a different song! They would be disqualified. Kevin couldn’t figure out, if this was a better or worse outcome than ending dead last in the finals. The song was beautiful, Sigrit sang splendidly, and behind the scenes Kevin did his best, trying to signal to the technicians when to use the smoke machine and release glittering confetti, winging it as best he could. At the end the audience went wild, and then Lars and Sigrit kissed on stage. So much for Alexander’s smoke and mirrors, Kevin thought wryly. 

In the end, unsurprisingly, Alexander Lemtov was crowned as the winner. No wonder, thought Kevin, after that number he probably had both the male and female audiences lusting after him. There was, of course, again a party at Alexander’s house. Kevin was not really in a party mood but went anyway. He was tired of the usual chit-chat, and everything related to Eurovision. He didn’t want to hear anyone commenting on his show, so he picked a glass of champagne and walked over to the terrace overlooking the city to take in the view.  
He heard footsteps but didn’t bother turning around. He was pondering whether after this glass he should just leave, or try to cheer up and maybe find someone hot to flirt with. Plenty of those in Eurovision parties, especially Alexander’s.

“Kevi-in, what you doing here alone?  


Kevin turned around. Alexander looked as handsome as ever in his embroidered jacket that no one else could have pulled off. No shirt underneath, of course. He raised his glass.  


“Congratulations, Alexander! You did it this time! Great show!”  


“Thank you. But why you here alone? Come join my party!”  


“I’m not really in the mood. The week has been quite a disaster, professionally.” And personally, he added silently.  


Alexander looked sympathetic.  


“Yes. But they have their happy ending.”  


Kevin shrugged. He didn’t really care about Lars and Sigrit, other than not having to work with them again. Iceland had called him after the final, apologizing profusely and with promises of a sizeable bonus for steering them through to the finale. They seemed to understand that they had exactly zero chance of ever hiring Kevin Swain again.  


“How did you become such a fan of them, anyway?”, he asked.  


“Sigrit is an interesting woman with an incredible voice. We could have been great together. Besides, it look very good in press.” Alexander smiled at him. “And they have the best director.”  


“Who they completely chose to ignore most of the time.”  


“Yes, Lars is an idiot.” A brief silence followed.  


“Kevi-in, you seem stressed, maybe you need a holiday?”  


Kevin was quite sure that the last thing he needed was more free time to go over the disaster that the week had been.  


“After all this is done,” Alexander continued, gesturing towards the party, “I think I will go to Greece. Maybe get a yacht.”  


Kevin wondered, whether “getting a yacht” for Alexander meant renting or buying one. He probably had one already, somewhere in the Mediterranean, and a villa as well. Ah yes, now he was going on about sun, his love for Greek statues and villas.  


“…Maybe you should come?”  


“I…what?”, Kevin was not sure if he had heard correctly.  


Alexander laughed, spreading his arms and showing off his muscular chest. “I look fantastic with a tan. You should see!” Then he gave Kevin one of those smouldering looks, and lowered his voice to that velvety purr that Kevin had never been able to resist. “You might enjoy it. Maybe even more than Budapest?”  


“Oh, look who’s being naughty now!”, Kevin gave a surprised chuckle.  


“Maybe we should discuss this after the party?”. Alexander leaned over to whisper in Kevin’s ear, slightly closer than was necessary. “In my room?”  


Alexander’s stubble on his cheek, his familiar cologne, his hot breath on his ear…. Kevin was close to kissing Alexander right then and there.  


“There he is! Lemtov! The man of the evening!”  


Some drunk guests had spotted Alexander and were heading over to congratulate him. Hearing the voices, Alexander had pulled back in an instant and was already on his way to greet the guests. He glanced at Kevin over his shoulder. There was definitely a question in his eyes. 

Kevin gave him a slight smile, and the slightest nod, and then went to re-join the party. The evening was certainly looking up. That holiday in Greece would probably be just what he needed, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Sorry if you were hoping for more explicit content, but I decided to leave that up to everyone's imaginations.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Alexander have been having a great week at Alexander's palace, but now it's time for them to have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I thought I was done with this story, but then another idea popped into my mind, and I realized it works best as another chapter instead of a one-off story. This happens one week after the end of the previous chapter.  
> Hope you enjoy! I would really appreciate any comments you may have, as I haven't got any so far.

”Kevin, I think we need to talk this evening.”  
Alexander had said this as they were both heading out, Kevin for lunch with some industry people and Alexander to a meeting with his team, to discuss his plans after the Eurovision win. Alexander had been uncharacteristically sombre, and Kevin knew what was coming: that this was impossible for Alexander, that they had to stop, that they had to go their separate ways again. Maybe they could hook up in next year’s Eurovision again, Kevin thought, although come to think of it, that would be in Moscow, so actually there would be zero chance for that. Alexander would never risk his reputation in his home country like that. 

The words had rung in Kevin’s ears the whole day. The lunch had been something of a success: as he had predicted, there had been talk of a very interesting job offer. He’d been interested but hadn’t agreed to anything yet. They had promised to email him the details. At least he now had some sort of a plan for the future that he would seemingly soon face without Alexander. 

He had already been expecting this. They had had a wonderful week in Alexander’s Edinburgh palace: lots of sex, romantic dinners, long talks… But they had both known that they were hiding from the outside world, and it could not last forever. Alexander had his career to think about, now more than ever, and had already received impatient phone calls on when he would return to Russia. 

After the lunch Kevin had already briefly considered just packing his bags and leaving, not having to face the discussion that was to come. Then he reminded himself that he had known the end result all along, and had still wanted to do this. Had even wished for it before it happened, had actively worked for it. He had foolishly told himself that even a few days with Alexander would be worth the inevitable heartache. He was not so sure about that anymore, but he had to be adult enough to face the consequences now.

He was lounging on one of Alexander’s antique sofas when his phone pinged. It was the email, the job offer. He pulled it up and glanced through it. It was very good, interesting and paid well. A great career step. Just then Alexander arrived. 

“Hey”, he said, stopping at the entrance to the room. “How was your lunch?”

“It was good.” Neither of them moved to hug or kiss each other, a definite change from the previous days.

“Did they…offer you a job?”

“Yes. And they just sent it to me by email. It’s very good.”

“Did you…accept it?”

“Not yet. I told them I’d think about it.”

Was there a tinge of relief in Alexander’s eyes? Why? Would it be easier for him to end this knowing that Kevin had other plans for the future?

Alexander slowly walked to the sofa and sat down, facing him. “Kevin, as I said in the morning, I think we need to talk.”

Kevin looked at him. “Yes”, was all he managed to say. His mouth was dry. He tried to steel himself for what was coming.

Alexander looked slightly worried. He picked Kevin’s hand in his. “This is not easy for me. I don’t usually talk about these things.”

No, usually you just announce that you will return to Russia for an indefinite time period and leave without a good-bye, thought Kevin slightly bitterly, but didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know where to start, Kevin. So I will start with Budapest. What we had in Budapest was fun and… casual. But then, when you were gone and I was back in Russia, I noticed… I couldn’t stop thinking about you! Kevin, I thought about you every night. Every. Single. Night. And I tried to stop. I focus on my Russian tour. It was a great tour. But it didn’t help.” Alexander shrugged. “I didn’t even go to Stockholm last year so I wouldn’t see you. Then you went to the US, and I was happy. Because it would be easier not to see you. And then I heard you would be in Edinburgh! But I thought it would not matter, because it has been two years, and maybe we both forget. 

And then, at my party, you flirted with me! After that, Kevin, again I think about you all the time. And when I win, I think maybe I can have some fun with you for a few days, like in Budapest. Kevin, I was wrong. I don’t want this to be another Budapest. I don’t want us to go different ways, and never see each other again. I want to be with you! I know it’s not simple, but I want to try. 

Kevin, I have talked to my people today. We are doing a tour in Europe. I want you to direct it. And not just direct it, I want you to tour with me. First, we will go to Greece to plan everything. Then, we will tour Europe together. What do you say? My people will call you tomorrow.”

Kevin stared at Alexander at a loss for words, trying to process everything he had just heard.

“Kevin? Do you not want to?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, Alex, this is the complete opposite of what I was expecting you to say! Just give me a second to sort out my thoughts.”

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to gather all his thoughts, to be able to express all his feelings.

“Alex, what you said about Budapest… I felt the same way. I was not able to forget you. And I tried. Really hard. I drowned myself in projects, but it didn’t work. I flirted with other guys. Slept with them. But they were not you.”

Alexander gave a small, coy smile. “Of course not!”

“I didn’t even know you were going to be in Edinburgh. And when I found out… Alex, I took that stupid job with Iceland for you. Because I knew it would give me the chance to be with you again! And then you flirted with me at your party, and I already thought it was going well, but then you… Ignored me?”

Alexander looked ashamed. “I know, I’m sorry, Kevin! I was scared of how happy I was to see you. It was safer to focus on my career, and forget about everything else.”

“And then… Then you won, and suddenly you wanted me again, and all of this happened, and now… Alex, we’ve had a great time together, I have loved every second of it, but I don’t even know what you are offering me. Are you offering me a job? Or a… relationship? Because if it’s just a job, if you think we can work together with some casual sex on the side, some sort of a friends with benefits arrangement… I don’t think I can do that. I don’t think I can ever be only casual with you again.”

“No, Kevin, no! I want to be with you. Together. You know it can’t be public, but in private all I want is you. Think about it, we will tour every European city together, stay in palaces and luxury hotels, make passionate love…”

“Alex, I don’t care about the palaces and luxury hotels, I only care about being with you.”

Alexander smirked. “And the passionate love-making?”

Kevin laughed. “Yes, that too, you know that. Yes, Alex, let’s do this! Let’s at least try. Let’s go to Greece, let’s tour Europe, let’s be together! Yes, to all of it!”

Alexander leaned forward, and they kissed. Tenderly, at first, and then more passionately. 

“Maybe we can start with the love-making?”, Alexander whispered in his ear.

Kevin kissed his neck. “That sounds like a good idea.”


End file.
